Warrior

by Lori Brighton

  A promise.

  The words whispered through my mind. I’d made a promise. It was the only thing that stayed crystal clear as all other memories faded. I pushed away from the tree, feeling frustrated and confused. I’d made a promise to a majestic queen who wore an emerald gown.

  I looked down at my own dress. Dark blue in color, delicate and soft, it shimmered in the moonlight. Not my clothing. The only tangible reminder of the nymph kingdom. The gauzy material whispered through my fingers, light as air. Definitely not man-made.

  The sweet sound of music, and laughter. The savory scent of meals that tasted so delicious no human could come close to replicating them. No fear. No hatred. No worry. It had been pure magic. My chest ached, missing something that had never truly belonged to me.

  I started to turn back toward the fire and confront my new reality when I caught something glimmering from the corner of my eye. Familiarity washed over me. I knew that glow. My breath caught and I froze, waiting.

  There it was again. A twinkle of light. Almost like a firefly.

  A shiver of excitement whispered through me. I knew, in that moment, something magical was about to happen. Slowly, I turned my head, daring to look at it directly. It was a small, glowing orb that left behind a trail of glittering dust as it floated by me.

  “A wisp.”

  At least it looked like a wisp, but it was larger. A glowing orb the size of a baseball. Everything faded and only that pinpoint of magical light remained. I started to step toward it when firm fingers gripped my upper arm.

  “Don’t move,” the prince whispered.

  “A wisp.” I was only vaguely aware of Mak, for I was more interested in the magic in front of me. The light changed color from yellow, to blue, to pink, just like those cocoons where they kept the human children. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Not a wisp,” he said, his voice tight. “An actual fairy.”

  Shocked, I jerked my gaze toward him. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “How do you know it’s a she?”

  I focused on the fairy once more. “I don’t know. I just do. Don’t you feel it?”

  He frowned, watching me oddly. “I don’t feel anything.”

  Hesitant, I was unsure how to explain the tingling awareness that pulsed through my veins. The whisper of something more to come…something wonderful, something amazing. The fairy fluttered around us like a butterfly, but with a tiny human-like body and a halo of an iridescent glow. I felt connected to that tiny being like I’d never felt connected to anything before. She was me, I was her.

  I felt almost like a mother with the intense desire to protect her child. “She’s beautiful.”

  She floated away, disappearing into the shadows and leaving behind only a glimmer of golden dust and a trail of light. Mak pushed aside the branches, diving into the forest, following the glow. Startled, I surged into the trees after him.

  “Where are you going? What do you plan…” The sudden sound of neighing drew me up short. We paused in the forest, surrounded by darkness, afraid to move. “What was that?”

  These woods were so very different from the nymph woods. There was a harshness here. A sense of desperation, of life or death. A wary watchfulness.

  It sounded again; the soft call of a horse, a neigh of distress. Realization hit me hard. “It’s a unicorn!”

  Without thought or concern to my safety, I broke through the trees, shoving aside branch after branch, heedless to the sting of scratching thorns. I wasn’t sure where I was going, I merely followed the fairy dust that glowed like a trail in the darkness.

  I heard the low gurgle of a stream right before the trees paused. Bursting through the branches and into the clearing, I spotted the unicorn. A pure, silver unicorn stood near the creek. The fairy we’d followed floated around the beast, as if to offer him comfort. But it was the brilliant glow pulsing from the horned horse that caught my attention. A brilliant, white glow that I’d never noticed before. Mak paused next to me.

  “It’s stunning,” I whispered, knowing I’d never get used to seeing the magical animals. “Why is it glowing like that?”

  Mak looked at me strangely. “The fairy?”

  “No.” I took a step closer to the creek, afraid of startling the beast. “The unicorn.”

  He hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “It’s not glowing.”

  Confused, I looked again at the beautiful, white horse. The pulsing light that surrounded the animal could not be denied. What game was Mak playing at? “But…it is.”

  “It’s trapped,” Mak said, changing the subject. “It’s got a wire around its hoof.”

  Desperate, I surged forward. “No! Why would someone do that?”

  Mak grabbed my hand and jerked me back. “You can’t get close, it will kill you.”

  Annoyed and furious, I struggled in his grasp. “I was close to one in the nymph land, and nothing happened!”

  That was one thing, at least, I could remember with clarity. But Mak’s face remained a mask of indifference. How could he be so cruel? Did he honestly believe I’d just go about my life, letting the poor beast suffer?

  “You got close to the unicorn because Queen Iduna let you. They might look sweet, but they’re vicious.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I pulled away from him. “It’s hurt! Just because you see them as a thing to kill—”

  “It’s legal to hunt them.”

  I actually stomped my foot. “It shouldn’t be!”

  “You sound like my sister,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you want to get stabbed, so be it.”

  I wasn’t sure why he was so pissed. Perhaps it was the lack of nymph magic and cold wash of reality. We were both hung over and irritable. I didn’t wait for his approval, but edged my way closer, keeping my palm outstretched like I approached a wild dog. “It’s okay.”

  I admit, Mak’s words made me nervous, but I didn’t dare show it. Besides, the unicorn didn’t look worried. It looked like it trusted me. Still, my throat constricted, my breath catching the closer I got. The unicorn shifted, snorting. The entire world shrank. It was just me and him and the magic around us.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to soothe any fears it might have, or maybe trying to soothe mine.

  Why had the fairy brought me here? Surely, she could have helped the animal. Was it a test? I glanced up at the trees where she waited in a glow of golden light. Yes, no doubt, it was a test.

  The unicorn grew still, watchful. I took in a deep breath and relaxed my body, having heard that animals could sense emotions. When I was only a couple feet away, so close I could feel the warmth from its body, I knelt on the soft, wet earth of the creek bank. The wire trap dug into his leg, yet the unicorn didn’t flinch. It was as if it had been waiting patiently for me to come along and help.

  Carefully, I slid my hand down its smooth leg, until I reached its hoof. The wire was tight around its ankle, digging into its soft fur and flesh. Brilliant red blood trailed down its hoof, turning the silver fur pink. My heart lurched with compassion and fury.

  “How could someone do this to you?” I whispered.

  I took the thick wire and started to untwist the metal. The unicorn shifted, the pain finally getting through its indifferent façade. It was hurt, but hopefully the fairy would heal the unicorn once it was freed.

  “I know,” I murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

  The unicorn neighed as if in response. With a deft twist, the wire sprung free. The unicorn lifted his injured leg, stepping away from its bondage. It nudged me in the shoulder, as if to say thank you, then turned and sauntered away, strolling easily through the forest.

  Slowly, I stood. No one had ever trusted me the way that unicorn had trusted me. No one had ever needed me like that animal had needed me. My chest felt suddenly tight. I pressed my palm to my breastbone.

  For a long moment, I didn’t move, merely watched until the glowing animal disappeared into the da
rkness, it’s light fading. The fairy still hovered nearby, the only light in the darkness. What did she want? Was I missing something?

  “How did you do that?” Mak demanded.

  “Do what?” Disconcerted, I turned toward him, brushing my hands against my skirts.

  “How did you get the unicorn to trust you?”

  Mak’s voice was laced with suspicion. I frowned, not appreciating his attitude. “I don’t know. They aren’t normally trustworthy?”

  “No.” His eyes narrowed. “And the fairies…they don’t just flutter around anyone. She seems attracted to you.”

  Sure enough, our fairy friend still hovered nearby. I couldn’t help but feel as if she wanted something more from me. I assumed when I’d freed the unicorn she’d leave. But she stayed put, bobbing in the air like a buoy in the ocean.

  “I don’t know,” I snapped, growing annoyed. What exactly was he accusing me of? “I have no idea why they suddenly trust me.”

  He stepped closer, his gaze intent. “Can you call them to you?”

  A shiver of unease whispered down my spine. A warning. “What do you mean?”

  He pulled a glass flask from his pack and poured out the water. “I mean, if we wanted more fairies to visit, could you call them here?”

  My gaze narrowed, my wariness increasing. What was he doing? And why was he asking so many weird questions? “I don’t know.”

  “Well, we’re going to find out.”

  There was a strange gleam in his gaze, something that made me nervous, scared and nauseous all at once. It was the only warning I had before he swooped forward, the flask extended. He caught the fairy much like we had caught lightning bugs when I had been a child. With a triumphant growl, he placed the lid upon the glass jar, trapping the glowing fairy. Our very own Tinker Bell.

  “What are you doing?” I cried out, slamming my fists against his shoulders. “Let her go!”

  He turned away from me and started toward the clearing. “I’m sorry, Shay, but we need the fairy dust if we want to prevent a war.”

  I lunged for the bottle, but he sidestepped my advance, thrusting his arm out to hold me back. I swatted at his arm. How could he? Fury and frustration combined, sending stinging tears to my eyes. “Damn you, I promised the Queen!”

  He stuffed the flask into his bag. “You might have, but I didn’t.”

  “I trusted you, does that mean nothing?”

  “Yes.” He turned and walked away. “But not enough.”

  ****

  Not enough.

  He’d chosen his people over me. His people over the fairies. Over anything or anyone else. I shouldn’t blame him, but I did. In that moment, I hated him. Hated him like I’d never hated anyone ever before.

  He’d made me think he was honorable, that he cared. He’d made me think he would put others first. Put me first. He was just as bad as his father, his uncle. Bryn had warned me, Helen had warned me, but I’d ignored them.

  The fire hissed and sizzled between us as if the flames sensed my anger and obliged. “That fairy is a living being, how can you not care?”

  He sat across the fire, the glass jar safely at his side, as he struck a dagger across a stone, sharpening the blade. For the last few hours he’d ignored my every remark, my every curse. It was as if I didn’t exist. I swore the fairy’s light had dimmed. Although she’d tried at first to escape, slamming her tiny body against the glass, now she lay in a heap at the bottom of the jar. Exhausted. Fading.

  “I can’t afford to care,” Mak finally replied. “It’s us or them.”

  My hands curled. If I could’ve gotten away with punching him, I would have. If he thought he’d won, he would realize the truth soon enough. I wouldn’t rest until I freed that fairy. “I’ve never met anyone as selfish as you.”

  He laughed, lifting his gaze to meet mine. There was a hardness there that frightened me as much as it angered. This was the Mak I’d met my first day here, when he’d brought me from New York and I’d awoken in that tent.

  He’d placed a wall between us then. And here it was again; something that wouldn’t budge. I knew walls well, for I’d used them my entire life to keep people away. He didn’t want to care. Caring would make him feel guilty. I thought I had broken through to him. Was I wrong?

  “You’re telling me that if you had to choose between saving your family,” he snapped. “Your people, or these fairies, you’d pick the fairies?”

  I leaned forward, glaring at him. “I’d find another way. There are always other ways.”

  He snorted as he slid the dagger into his boot. “Ah, yes. You and your other ways. You don’t realize how many centuries people here have tried to find another way. You don’t understand our world.”

  I was tired of that same old argument. How long would I have to live here before they would accept me? “Oh, I think I do. It’s similar to every other world, your highness. No matter what the culture, what the history, what plane of existence: people blinded by greed, destroying their very own realm to get what they want, at the expense of everything and everyone else. Meanwhile, shooting themselves in the foot as their environment crumbles around them. What will happen if you kill off the fairies? How will you survive then?”

  He looked away, but not before I saw the slightest twinge of indecision. “We won’t use them all.”

  Maybe I’d imagined the indecision in his gaze, but I grasped onto it, pushing. “Won’t you? Because I’ve seen it happen on Earth, and it doesn’t end well. Your uncle doesn’t sound like the sort of man to care if the fairies die off. If he destroys everything and everyone to get what he wants.”

  He surged to his feet, obviously agitated. “So, what will you have us do?”

  Not to be intimidated, I jumped to my feet as well. “Find another way!”

  He hesitated. His jaw clenched, his gaze fierce and frantic. Mr. Royalty had never had to answer to anyone before. I would be his conscience. I settled my hands on my hips and waited.

  And in that brief and unguarded moment, I saw it…the worry that lurked in the depths. He was afraid. Afraid of hurting his people. Afraid of getting them killed. Afraid of losing everything.

  I softened ever so slightly. My arms lowered to my side. “Let her go, Mak.”

  “They take humans, to do only the gods know what. Why do you care so much about them?”

  “Because you and I both know that we don’t have all the details. That something strange is going on with Queen Iduna. That the fairies might not be taking the humans after all.”

  I held out my hand and waited, hoping he would prove himself to be the man I’d thought I glimpsed. He stared hard at me, the war of emotions within his gaze obvious and disconcerting. It was as if I could see a peek into his soul, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  I would plead if I must. However much it hurt my pride, I would beg to save that fairy. But I hoped I didn’t have to. The silence stretched between us. Only occasionally did that glass bottle glow with light, but it was weak at best. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, was killing her but she wouldn’t last much longer.

  Finally, he cursed under his breath and moved around the fire toward me. I was relieved and pleasantly surprised when he slapped the glass bottle into my hand. He didn’t wait around for my thanks, but headed toward the creek. My hands shook as I unscrewed the lid, fearing the worst. A bright burst of light momentarily blinded me. I felt the whisper of fairy wings on air as she burst from the flask and into the night sky.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered after her.

  She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived. I didn’t blame her. The woods grew silent. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and soft murmur of the stream. It was as if she took all the magic with her, leaving things heavy and dark.

  Mak headed back toward the fire and me. I shouldn’t care if he was annoyed and angry, but I did. I liked him, most of the time. And I wanted him to like me. Not that I would ever admi
t that much to him. Or had I already? I hated that I couldn’t remember what had happened in the nymph land.

  “What did she mean?” I finally asked. “Right before we left, Queen Iduna told you that you would have to choose between your uncle’s people or yours?”

  He didn’t look at me. “I don’t know.”

  Liar. I dipped my fingers into the flask, and touched the glittering gold the fairy had left behind. It sparkled almost as if it was alive. Maybe it was. I brushed it off on my sleeve, watching it fall to the ground. Oddly, the moment it touched the grass it started to fade, until it was gone. Part of the earth. Magic no more.

  A month. We’d been gone a month. What had happened in those four weeks?

  “Did you know the nymphs had human children?”

  “Of course not.” He picked up a stick and shoved it into the flames. “Yes. I’d heard rumors of…”

  “What?”

  He frowned. “Rumors of the natural ones mating with humans.” He settled down near the flames, and picked up his plate of rabbit. So indifferent to the idea. He didn’t seem to care that humans were being kept as sex slaves. Or maybe he did, and that’s why he was acting oddly.

  “What sort of beings do they produce?”

  “Abominations. According to myth.”

  I settled across from him, the fire between us. My rabbit meat was cold, gray. My stomach churned. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Or maybe just not hungry for meat. The nymph world had changed me. “Explain more.”

  He sighed and set down his plate. “The magical ability of a fairy, combined with the greediness of a human, supposedly produces offspring who are so powerful they become evil. It’s been said that they could destroy the realms, if given the chance.”

  “But…” I searched through my memories, attempting to understand the feelings swirling within. “But when I first arrived, didn’t you tell me that we were the offspring of such a match?”

  He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.